Changing Your Stars: A Dwarf's Tale
by fanficfanforev
Summary: Looking back, Thorin could tell it had been a bit absurd to think any of it could actually work. It was a plan with a very small chance of success and certainty of death. Of course, that's why they had all decided to do it. Thorin would find his family a home, even if he had to pass himself off as a human to do so. A Hobbit Story loosely based off of A Knights Tale.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have no idea where this came from. I just decided that the movie 'A Knights Tale' would be an awesome theme for a Hobbit story and this just kind of happened. I regret nothing. All the cast will appear in one way or another. It's Thorin/Bilbo and I'll see where the ships go from there :) (Let me know of who you'd like to see together!)

Summary: Looking back, Thorin could tell it had been a bit absurd to think any of it could actually work. It was a plan with a very small chance of success and certainty of death. Of course, that's why they had all decided to do it. Thorin would find his family a home, even if he had to pass himself off as a human to do so. A Hobbit Story loosely based off of A Knights Tale.

* * *

_Far over the misty mountains cold_  
_To dungeons deep, and caverns old_  
_We must away ere break of day_  
_To seek the pale enchanted gold._

-o-o-o-

Five years of medical training, three years of apprenticeship under Radagast, and it all came down to these few ridiculous words.

"Well, you're not going to like this, but… He's dead, Thorin." Balin flicked the ornamental helmet's visor back down over the face that was too pale and sat back on his haunches to regard his Thorin. Thorin was incapable of returning the gaze of his oldest friend and advisor. He must have looked quite a site, covered in dirt, dung, sick and blood as he was, but Thorin couldn't give it a care.

Bard was dead, and with him any chance the four dwarrows had of returning home with food.

Balin stood up slowly and dusted his grubby hands off on his equally grubby breeches. Ordinarily Thorin would have offered consolation for the careful surgeon getting messy, but Thorin was frozen.

They were going to starve. They were going to be cast aside and treated as vagabonds-if they weren't accused of murdering their former Lord and Master.

"Hey, I found the extra-why is he leaning against a tree instead of sitting on his horse?" Fili came up the path from the nearby village as he spoke and stopped short in front of the deceased Human with a pronounced frown. Kili, his brother, collided into him at the unexpected stop. "Sir, you've only got ten minutes before you're called to the field."

"Fili," Balin sighed, dusting off his hands, "He's not going anywhere he's-ummph!" Thorin surged forward and clamped a hand over Balin's mouth as another figure came from the village. The regal Elf walked extremely stiffly across the dirt path. He eyed the three 'Dwarrows' and the deceased Human with obvious disdain, despite the fact that he didn't move one muscle on his blank face. It was impressive how expressive the Elves could make their eyes. They also just seemed to radiate annoyance around Dwarrows.

"When might we expect Lord Bard? He has only ten minutes before he must forfeit the match."

"He'll be there!" Thorin insisted quickly. The elf narrowed his eyes and Thorin continued, inclining his head respectively. He could feel Balin working his mouth furiously under his hand but he steadfastly ignored the wet sensation. "Sir, he shall arrive on time. I'm afraid he's had a bit of trouble with his armor. It needs loosening before he can move." Thorin bowed his head in respect even though it made his stomach turn violently. He hated elves. They were the ones responsible for his peoples status. Them and their overly virtuous, self-important, flower loving, tree hugging selves!

The Elf, oblivious to Balin's dismay and Throin's hate, raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." He regarded Bard for one more moment before turning. "I shall look for him in precisely ten minutes." The Elf scurried away. Balin, tired of being restrained by Thorin, bit the hand covering his mouth.

"Ow! Balin!" Thorin grumbled he shook his hand and glowered at the old dwarf. Balin matched his gaze and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Someone mind telling us what's going on?" Kili inquired remarkably patiently as Thorin, with one last glare at Balin slipped next to their dead master, Bard.

"All right, you're telling me what's up in a moment." Balin turned to Fili and Kili, who were now tapping their feet impatiently. Kili's shaggy brown hair was falling in his eyes and he moved it away with a well-practiced flick of his head. Fili's hair was respectably braided back. " Bard died."

Fili blinked once, twice, three times before responding. "I'm sorry?"

" Bard is dead, done, finished, deceased. His soul has gone but his stench remains."

"He can't be dead." Kili took a small, tentative step towards the very deceased Human that Thorin was methodically pulling the armor off of. Balin grumbled behind him.

"Sorry, there's nothing I can do. This elf is dead." Balin redirected his attention to Thorin, ignoring Fili and Kili's protest about not having eaten in three days so Bard had to be alive because they needed to eat. "And what do you think you're doing, Laddie?"

"I'm removing his armor. Surely one so wise as yourself can tell that." Thorin rumbled, removing the vambracer with a frown of distaste. He was well acquainted with this armor. It was always his job to dress the overweight knight. It wasn't a task he terribly relished. Especially since he could always feel his masters unflinching gaze on him whenever he bent to fasten the chausses. He had no desire to know what the old man had imagined.

"Laddie, stop."

"He's dead, he hardly needs it." Thorin retorted. He freed the last vambrace and went to work on the hauberk that Bard always insisted on.

It was true that he was being extremely cold about their now dead master, but serving had never been his style. Or his choice, really. The elves had always insisted the Dwarrows serve the humans and elves, since long before memory. None of his people had any rights as they weren't thought of all that much more highly than Dogs. Even Wargs were treated better than most Dwarrows. While Bard had never been outstandingly cruel, Thorin saw no reason to waste tears on someone who thought he was only good for manual labor. He had also made several advances that made Thorin want to stab him with his practice sword. If only the blade had not been so dull.

It was also not that surprising that Bard had died. That's what happened when Humans who were far too old to be competing did compete. Their hearts gave out.

"What in Mahal's name are you doing, Thorin?" Thorin had successfully pulled off all the human's armor and was now proceeding to put it on his own body. It was a bit long, but not overly so. Bard had always been a rather short human. The more noticeable problem was that he'd also been considerably fatter than Thorin.

"Come on, Balin. Surely you can see what I'm doing? I intend to ride in his place."

"Will that actually work?" Fili asked, stepping over to Thorin and helping him adjust the cowter on his shoulder. Kili gave an uncaring shrug and joined Fili on Thorin's other side. His nephews made quick work of the rest of the fastenings.

Balin was still staring at him with a furrowed brow. It was a full thirty seconds before he finally responded.

"What are you saying, Laddie?"

Thorin stared straight into Balin's eyes while Fili pulled his long, dark hair back. "I'm going to joust in his place."

"Well that's madness."

"Probably." Thorin was completely undeterred as he fastened the braces. He valued Balin's opinion above all others, but he would not sit by while they starved. Not when there was a possible means of salvation at his fingertips. The risk did not matter. Not when the punishment would only fall on him should they be caught. "Yet we cannot eat until we have the money to eat. Money we will only get if Bard wins this match. Therefore, I'm jousting. Pass me that helmet?"

"What's your name?" Balin asked, making no move for the helmet sitting at his feet. Thorin huffed and moved forward to get it only to be stopped by Fili tightening his hands around Thorin's hair.

"Ouch," Thorin complained, rubbing at his head. Fili knocked his hand away.

"None of that. I've got to braid all of this back or they'll see it. Bard's hair is-"

"Was." Kili corrected.

"Was, gray, not black."

"I asked what your name was, Laddie?"

Thorin, to his own annoyance, let out a frustrated huff. "Thorin, Son of Thrain."

"Exactly, you've no last name which means you are neither Human or Elf. You cannot fight."

"I can fight, I am not _allowed_ to fight." Thorin corrected. "There is quite a difference. No man has more courage than I. With that helmet," He pointed to the shining silver at Balin's feet, "I can fight, for none would know my true heritage."

"You're too thin." Kili lamented.

"The lad's right. If you can't fit the build, the helmet will not aid."

"Kili, I require your shirt." Fili said simply, letting go of Thorin's now braided hair. It was to Kili's credit that he didn't question his brothers demand. He merely removed the shirt and passed it to him. Fili then proceeded to bunch it up and shove it under Thorin's hauberk. He stepped back and examined his handy work with a tilted head."

"That may actually work. Balin admitted with a huff. He bent down slowly and picked the helmet off before dusting it off with his grubby sleeve. He peered down at it before looking up at Thorin. "Should they remove it, we will be unable to protect you." Balin said softly. Thorin nodded his head and reached for the helmet.

"I would not ask you too." He said simply. He took the helmet only to have Kili yank it away.

"What if you have to take it off?" He demanded, a slightly panicked look in his eyes.

"Then," Fili said, taking the helmet away from his brother's manic grip, "Uncle makes up an excuse." He proceeded to fasten the helmet on and swiftly hide Thorin's hair away. "Any strands loose?" He asked aloud. Balin shook his head.

"You know they'll kill you for this, right?" He finally asked heavily. Thorin gave his head a descive nod.

"Which is why they shall not find out." He pulled the visor down and rolled his neck. He was a bit constricted in his movements do the ill-fitting armor, but it was manageable. The real trick would be getting on the horse. Thankfully, Thorin had always been unnaturally tall for a dwarf.

"All you have to do is stay on the horse." Kili whispered quietly, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Thorin couldn't help but notice how much his ribs were sticking out. He steeled his back and stood straighter.

"Indeed?" Balin asked in surprise. Fili nodded his head.

"Yeah, I couldn't believe the old man managed to break two lances either."

Thorin took the lance up. "Now, Balin, dispose of the body, just stick it in the bushes over there, and come to the stands like Fili and I usually do. No one will suspect a thing. They're not looking for anything suspicious. So, if we don't let on that there is anything suspicious occurring, they have no reason to suspect us. We get away with the prize and we get to eat. The plan is full proof."

It was anything but, but the dwarrows were too polite to say so.

Thorin turned and strode off towards the field where his horse waited. Thankfully Thorin was the large beast's handler so Beorn was used to him. The animal actually liked Thorin. (Which was quite unusal for Dwarrows, but under the circumstances Thorin wasn't about to complain.)

"Alright, let's just get in and out." Thorin could hear Balin muttered as he led Beorn to the starting point. Elion, Thorin's rival, mounted his own beast and rode to the starting point. Fili handed Thorin his lance while Elion's Dwarf, Dain? Handed him his lance.

"Challengers at the start!" The rude elf that had informed the four dwarrow of their ten minutes stood at the center of the field. "On my mark, ride!" The elf raised a ridiculously large flag, and then swung it down, signifying the start of the match before he ran off the field. Thorin urged Beorn forward and gripped the unwieldy Lance as tightly as he could. He brought his knees tight around Beorn's side and grit his teeth. He needed only to stay on the horse. He locked eyes with the oncoming human and gripped Beorn's reigns more tightly.

_Three…_

_Two…_

_One…_

The impact was louder than he anticipated. The lance's connected against each other and the following shower of splinters had Thorin frantically closing his eyes as he was over come with vertigo. He gripped his legs around Beorn all the tighter and willed his body not to move. A crushing pain vibrated through his nose and head followed by the distinct sound of cheers. He dropped what was left of his lance and brought the other hand to grab at Beorn's mane. The horse whined in annoyance but didn't shake his hold.

Hands grabbed at his arms and chest before pulling him from the horses back. He recognized Fili and Kili's scent, followed quickly by their voices.

"You've won, you've won!"

"Easy," Thorin growled, vaguely aware that his voice sounded odd. He could hardly breathe and he tasted blood. "Bard has won countless times."

Fili instantly stepped back but Kili kept a hand on his arm. Which was just as well, Thorin couldn't see out of his helmet and he had the strangest feeling that it wasn't pressing against his face properly. Before he quite knew what he was about, the rude elf was presenting him with a gold leaf for his victory.

How like an elf.

* * *

_A/n: And we're off! Leave a review, pretty please?_

_Info/ translations:_

_Dwarrows= plural of dwarf_

_cowter= it's a piece of armor that goes on the shoulder_

_vambracer = a piece of armor that goes over the wrist_

_chausses = pant armor_

_ hauberk = chain maille shirt_


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Looking back, Thorin could tell it had been a bit absurd to think any of it could actually work. It was a plan with a very small chance of success and certainty of death. Of course, that's why they had all decided to do it. Thorin would find his family a home, even if he had to pass himself off as a human to do so. A Hobbit Story loosely based off of A Knights Tale.

* * *

_"Even the smallest person can change the course of the future."_

_-Galadriel_

-oOoOoOo-

"Can I be a knight?"

"You work hard enough, my son, and you can be a knight."

"That's a laugh! You might as well change the stars!" The gruff old dwarf knocked a thirty year old Thorin aside and snickered at his Father, Thrain. Thrain picked Thorin back up and brushed off his shoulder with warm, calloused hands.

"Don't listen to them, Thorin. Don't listen to any of them. If a dwarf works hard enough he can do anything. He can even change his stars."

That was one of the last conversations Thorin had with his father. He'd been bought by Lord Bert's grandfather shortly after it. He'd been forced from his homeland of Erebor and taken to the miserably small, yet overpopulated town of Bree.

Now, over a hundred and fifty years later Bert was dead and Thorin was once again free. He'd even gotten the human's armor.

It was not enough. It would never be enough while his people-his family-starved in this wretched world.

"I. Hate. Elves." Kili grounded the words out as he dropped a pile of cloth items on the floor. Balin paid him very little attention as he gathered up their meager belongings. Fili was tending to Beorn and Thorin was attempting to keep his nose from bleeding again. The lance's blow had distorted it against his head, breaking his nose in the process. It had had the advantage of rendering him incapable of removing his helmet though.

"What happened?" He inquired thickly. Kili still wasn't wearing a shirt.

"They only gave us fifteen silver pieces for that weird leaf thing. It was worth at least three times that." He huffed and picked up one of the blankets before folding it and rolling it up.

"It's because you're a dwarf." Balin said flippantly. "Thorin, don't tilt your head back." Thorin corrected his head and Balin went on as if he'd never stopped. "They don't think you can really own such a thing." He set down a shirt he'd been folding. "You're lucky they didn't accuse you of just stealing." He looked at Kili properly for the first time and huffed.

"By Mahal! You're not even wearing a shirt. It's a wonder you fetched a price at all." He picked up the shirt he'd just folded and tossed it at the young dwarf. "Put this on. By my beard, it's a wonder I haven't gone mad yet." Fili made his way over to the group and grabbed a blanket to fold up for their pack.

Thorin ignored the quiet bickering of the dwarrows and thought on all that had happened. He'd won a jousting tournament and none had suspected his true nature. He had played a sport he enjoyed and provided food for those he loved. Aside from a bloody nose, he was unscathed. He would know what to expect in the future and not be caught on the face by the lance again.

But, instead of using his new knowledge and ability, they were all just sitting there divvying up the possessions that Bert had brought to the match. None of them would return to the deceased human's manor. The minute they arrived without Bert they'd be accused of killing the elder. No one would believe that the old man had just keeled over. No, they couldn't head there.

His family was once again homeless. Again they had been driven from their home by the unfairness of their society.

Thorin would take it no more.

The plan he was forming was insane, with very little chance of success and almost certain death. Still, if it did work, they'd be rich and no one would be any the wiser. He could do more than feed his small family.

He could change their very stars.

"Valar save us, you're plotting again." Balin's clipped voice drew Thorin out of the revere he'd unknowingly fallen into. He realized he had been buffing the same spot on Lord Bert's armor for the last ten minutes. Thorin gave his mentor a mischievous grin and nodded his head.

"Yes, I am." Kili plopped down onto the ground and crossed his long legs before attending to Bert's tent.

"What about?" Balin inquired, not one to be distracted by anything once he was suspicious. It was one of the things Thorin liked best about the older dwarf. They'd met on his first day at Bert's manor. Thorin had been assigned to muck up the horses' stable and he'd gotten lost on the way. He ran into Balin who was trying to help a cow give birth.

That was not a sight Thorin would ever forget. Nor one he would ever care to repeat.

Balin had been elbow deep in the cow and completely covered in gunk. He'd given Thorin, the scrawny, tousled hair dwarf he was, one look and shook his head. "Step back," he'd ordered with a grunt as he reached further in. "If you get too close, I can't promise you won't come away a mess." Thorin had gotten closer and then messier than he'd thought possible, but a great friendship had been born out of it.

"We could do this." Balin wrinkled his brow in confusion and Fili looked up in mild curiosity.

"What? Fold? Sorry to disillusion you, lad, but we already are." Balin informed him before grabbing another raggedy tunic and carefully rolling it up. It made Thorin's chest tighten to acknowledge that they had to be careful with such a pathetic piece of clothing because it was pretty much all they had. They should be living as kings. They should be clothed in precious jewels and the finest silk. They were tradesmen, and Thorin still remembered the stories his grandfather had told him about the time before the war. Before Dwarrows had become little more than property.

The shirt that Kili held was all he had. Fili had no more and his was ripped. It was all either of them had ever had. He knew it intimately, he had roomed with his nephews since the Bard family had bought them from his sister.

He'd sworn to take care of them and he could not even afford a half decent shirt for either one. His sister had been sold to traders on their way to Gondor and he had not heard from her in ten years. He wondered if she had fared well. That was the lot of Dwarrows. Families were broken and sold to different corners of the world. Balin himself had a brother he had not seen since they were lads. Thorin was fortunate beyond measure that he had his nephews near.

They needed to change their stars. They all did. And Thorin finally knew away he could do it.

"No, not fold. We can already do that. I mean we can do this," he lifted the helmet he'd been buffing to emphasize his point.

"Thorin," Balin said slowly while Kili and Fili continued to look confused, "you're not serious."

It wasn't a question. It was Balin telling Thorin that he was crazy if he was serious. It was Balin telling Thorin that he would not let him be serious.

As if Balin had ever been able to stop him.

"I am serious, Balin. We received fifteen pieces of silver off that leaf. We could get to Rivendell on that."

"Thorin-"

Thorin held up his hand to silence him before he could start listing the reasons why it was a bad idea. Thorin was already aware of them. "Hear me out. We have the required equipment. In Rivendell they would not know me from any other knight. I can joust, and there is no better with the sword than I. Against all fate these items have come to us with none other aware." Thorin dropped his gaze to the helmet in his hands. "With a bit of luck and courage, and willing hearts," he stared at each of his three dwarfs, "we can change our stars."

"Thorin-"

Thorin softened his gaze and relaxed his grip on the helmet. "Balin, all the days I have lived in servitude you have been my guardian. Allow me the same honor now."

Balin sighed long and tired. He gave his head the tiniest shake before peering at Thorin with eyes that sparkled. "Oh, Laddie. I fear we may live to regret this."

"Wait," Kili rushed, "so we're going to Rivendell for what? To fight in the tournament?"

"Apparently." Fili said dryly. Kili sat up straight and pulled the folded tent to his chest as if he wanted to protect himself from the spreading madness.

"Relax, Kili." Thorin ordered. "I will see us safe."

"Stilts." Fili cut in. He set aside the clothing and got started on their food.

"What?"

"You'll need stilts." He looked up at Thorin through his long blond hair and shrugged. "We're short. You're taller than most dwarfs, but a few inches will make the lie more believable."

"If things look to be going south we leave, agreed?" Balin added. Thorin regarded his kin and mentor with a heavy gaze. Finally he nodded his head.

"Aye, agreed."

"And, of course, it goes without saying that you obliterate any and all elves you fight." Fili added after a long moment. Thorin allowed himself a grin and warmed at the sound of Balin's laughter.

Kili studied all three of them for a very long moment. Thorin couldn't believe it was Kili that was having trouble with the danger the journey would present.  
"Oh, what the hell. Why not? It's not like we've got anything else waiting on us." He pushed the fifteen pieces of silver forward and smirked at Thorin. "Let's head to Rivendell." Balin sighed again and regarded his friends.

"Mahal love you, Thorin." Thorin couldn't do anything but beam as he responded.

"I know, I know. Because no one else will."

-oOoOoOo-

"I don't know if can, Uncle." Kili said uncertainly, regarding the dagger as if he had no idea what one was supposed to with it. Fili was studying him with a disconcerting air.

"I think it best to go very short. You don't want to be halfway about this thing." Balin stated decisively. "Give me that, Laddie." He relived Kili of the dagger and went up to Thorin who was trying his very best to stand still. It's for your family. For their future and home. He reminded himself fervently as Balin brought the knife up to his long locks. He paused. "Best close your eyes for this." Thorin shook his head and kept his eyes resolutely open. He would not treat this as a dishonor. It was necessary. His hair was too dwarfish.

"Suit yourself." There was a sharp tug and then a terrible slicing noise before a hank of black hair flittered to the ground. Thorin watched it fall with a strange detached feeling. It hardly looked real. It was joined shortly by more and more, until all along the ground, surrounding his feet, dark hair lay.

His head felt remarkably lighter and there was a delightful breeze ghosting down his back. Thorin didn't know what to make of it.

"Oh," Fili murmured while Kili brought his hand to his mouth in a startled squeak. Thorin ignored them again and steeled his nerves as Balin went at his beard. He focused on the white of Balin's hair and not on the slicing noise of the dagger against his beard.

And then it was done.

Thorin swallowed before leveling his gaze at Kili. The young dwarf was gaping at him in a very unbecoming way.

Fili elbowed him and Kili's mouth clicked shut. He grinned sheepishly. "You look great, Uncle."

"Dashing." Fili echoed. Balin wiped the dagger off and tilted his head as he considered Thorin.

"Actually, you do look more human. I didn't think that'd work." He mumbled the last bit as if he didn't want Thorin to hear. Thorin decided to ignore the fact that Balin had gone at his hair believing he would look a fool. They could discuss that later.

He gently felt the locks that were scarcely five inches long now and valiantly fought back a pained whine. He had always been a very proud dwarf of great honor.

His honor was now laying at his feet. The one thing that separated dwarf kind from all other races lay at his feet.

Thorin gave himself a hard shake. Now was not the time to be vain. They needed to figure out the height problem.

Fili, bless his beard, realized the need for a distraction. "I'm thinking wood pegs." He rushed. Kili nodded his head and fumbled in his pack before drawing out two wooden wedges. "Shove them in the bottom of the shoe and you'll be several inches taller."

"We know because Fili tested it out." Kili smiled mischievously, "His being the short dwarf and all."

Bones was unflinching in his conviction. "Nope, sonny. You keep the helmet on. It's your own damn fault for planning this scheme."

"Now then, into the armor." Balin shoved the helmet on his freshly cropped head and Thorin winced. It was going to be a long, hot walk.

-oOoOoOo-

It had risen at least ten degrees and Thorin was beginning to fear he might be cooking inside his armor. Beorn gave a woeful neigh beneath him and Thorin took a moment to feel sorry for the large beast.

"Uncle?" Kili's voice cut through the heat induced fog. "There's someone on the road ahead."

"What?" Thorin removed the heavy helmet and gave his head a shake only to remember there was no hair to correct. About a hundred feet ahead there was a person walking towards them. Thorin could make very little else out.

"What should we do?" Kili wheezed. Fili nudged him and handed him a skin of water to keep his hands and mouth occupied. Balin moved to grab the reigns respectfully as was expected of all servant dwarves.

"Nothing." Thorin said as the person got clearer. "We are merely traveling to Rivendell for a tournament. It is nothing to cause alarm."

"Now shh!" Balin hissed before straightening. Thorin could see the figure clearly now. It was a dwarf with brown hair draping over his shoulders carelessly. He looked young, no more than eighty, and carried a small pouch in his left hand that he held tightly. He was extremely pale, and, save for the gloves on his hands, he was naked.

"Sir?" Balin inquired, sounding shocked. Kili and Fili were gaping. Thorin somehow managed to keep his face neutral. He was rather proud of himself.

"What?" The dwarf asked shortly. His voice was easy but his body was tense. He looked ready to strike at any moment. His hair was braided on the side and his beard was short, betraying his youthfulness.

"What are you doing?" Thorin asked.

"I'm trudging." He sighed, walking past the group. He gripped a small leather bag tightly in his hand.

"What?" Kili mumbled still staring.

"To trudge: the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a dwarf who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on." He stared up at the heavens and sighed, seeming to beg something from Manwe himself. "That and faith in our dear maker, Mahal, to please not leave me in my destitution. " He was covered in dirt and bruises. Thorin felt he hadn't given his clothes up without a fight. His stomach turned and he clenched his fist.

"Were you robbed?" Balin inquired politely.

The dwarf let out a surprisingly bitter laugh. "No, and then again, yes." He paused and regarded the group of ragtag dwarrows. He looked to be wondering how his life had gotten to this point. "I am this way for someone else. I'm a scribe." He said it as though it explained everything.

Thorin leaned forward in interest. "Indeed?"

The dwarf sighed. It was a surprisingly weary sound for one so young. "Yes. For a small fee I'll scribble down anything a person needs. I've even been known to write a ballad or two if the muse descends."

Thorin shared a heavy look with Balin. The dwarfling paused, seeming to realize he had a captive group. He began to grin. "Anything, honest. I'll even do patents of nobility." He shrugged offhandedly. "If that's your thing."

Fili and Kili perked up visibly and put on their most winning smiles. "How small a sum?"

The dwarf smiled and raised a gingery brown eyebrow. "My names Ori, by the way." Fili sauntered forward and offered his hand. Ori took it after a moment and gave an exaggerated shake.

"Fili-"

"And Kili!"

"At your service." They both bowed and offered Ori another brilliant grin.

"I am Lord… Thorin from Bree, and these are my servants, Fili and Kili, whom you've already met, and Balin." Ori's eyebrow went even higher before a smirk stole over his face.

"Right, and I'm the King of Rohan. Nice to meet you." He laughed as though he found himself quite funny. Fili frowned and surged forward with a dagger that Thorin hadn't been aware he had.

"You will watch your tongue, or lose it! How dare you insult our Lord with your filth."

Ori stumbled back a step before righting himself. "Now that I do believe." He declared. Balin huffed and shook his head.

"So much for chivalry." He stepped forward and held out his empty hands. "Alright, lad, what be your price?"

Ori regarded Balin wryly. He seemed to come to some sort of decision and shrug. "Very well. I've no idea what you're all playing at but I'm in. A few criticism though?"

Thorin inclined his head and allowed the dwarfling to speak. "One, you don't introduce servants ever. Two, they're always ahead of you. Three, you never speak to dwarves unless you need something from them. Fourth, you always give your last name." He tilted his head and studied Thorin before smiling brightly. It suited his face far better than the frown had. "Although, I have to say, you've done an impressive job of making him look like a human."

"Your price, scribe." Thorin said. Ori's eyes widened in mild surprise before he nodded his head.

"Clothes," He squeaked. He blushed, swallowed, and started again. "Cloth me, feed me, and let me ride the horse for a bit and I'll write you a patent that nobody will question."

Thorin motioned for Kili to tend to the dwarfling while Balin moved closer to Thorin.

"The lad has a point. You have to treat us as inferior." He frowned and scrunched his nose. "We also need a last name for you."

Thorin slipped off the horse and adjusted his boots. It was still a bit odd to walk on the stilts. "I have an idea." Balin looked surprised but waited to hear it. Thorin spoke as steadily as he could. "Oakenshield.

Balin made a strangled sort of noise and Thorin new he understood the reference. Thorin's grandfather, Thror, had been a famous fighter in the wars. He had single handedly defeated Azgog, a terrible orc, with nothing but an oaken branch. It was a story all dwarrows held close to their hearts, but not one that a human or elf would recognize. It spoke of victory in the most unlikely situations, and the belief that the dwarrows would one day rise above their circumstances and be free once again.

Thorin walked over to the now clothed Ori and gave Balin a moment to collect himself. "

Welcome," he said and offered his hand, "To the company of Thorin Oakenshield." Ori's eyes shone as he clasped Thorin's hand.

-oOoOoOo-

"Hold still!" Ori huffed good naturedly. Thorin did his best but the small hairs caught in his shirt were ticklish and it was hard not to squirm. He found the young dwarf agreeable and his nephews were thrilled to no longer be the youngest in the group.

"There. Much better. You look a respectable human now and not that haggard thing you were." Ori said proudly. Fili studied the work and nodded his head.

"Agreed, you look much better." Ori put his shears away and dusted himself off. Kili shuffled forward and plucked at Thorin's hair. He started to twine a few strands together and Thorin froze.

His nephews had braided his hair a thousand times, but he'd not thought he could pull it off as a human.

"I'll do the Durin braid?" Kili asked calmly. Fili dropped on Thorin's other side and did the same before they braided the strands together. It was a human style, but the braids were dwarf kind. Thorin sat stiffly and watched the fire flicker

He would not let their quest fail. He would do it for all dwarf kind. He would be victorious and provide a better life.

And he was beginning to think it just might work.

* * *

_A/n: Leave a review, pretty please?_

_Okay, more notes and such:_  
_Mahal= Dwarf name for Aule, the Valar responsible for creating them._  
_Valar= gods of Middle Earth. They were created by the high god Eru and they sang Middle Earth into existence. (It's complicated)_  
_Manwe= The chief Valar whose realm is the sky_

_Next chapter will be far more exciting. :D_


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